It's not some doctor-phobia that's holding me back; I simply seek to avoid that feeling of being unheard, un-helped, stamped and processed at my own an many other taxpayers' expense. It's not that doctors are all evil or uncaring. It's more about them being overbooked and overworked, or better yet, over-committed...

Of course there's the potential enjoyment of sitting at the clinic for 2-3hrs with the alternative being to wait until Monday morning to call the doctors office and likely be scheduled for an appointment later in the week or possibly even next week. If I decide to wait and see the family physician, that question that comes up "Is this an urgent issue?". I don't know. If I were a doctor I suppose I'd know that but since I'm not do I just hazard a guess? What if I'm wrong?

Then there's the results of the doctors visit. Do I get prescribed some antibiotics? I really don't like taking antibiotics these days, but then I don't like a simple infection turning into a nasty one either. Will the prescription cost me $20 or $80? What are the side-effects?

I suppose I should be thankful that there is a clinic here that's open 4hrs on Sundays... indeed there's many places in the world that only the privileged get to see a doctor for anything. I suppose I should be happy to spend $20-80 on antibiotics that are most likely to cure the infection. I suppose that the emotional costs are worth the return to health that they may initiate. It's easy to complain and we're all so good at it however one thing is unclear to me; What should my expectations be?

Mickael Maddison

When does it all begin?

Before a painter can open her paints, she must first select and build her medium. She must collect and assemble her materials. She must seek some inspiration, envision some picture, at what stage does the art begin to exist?

Before a musician plays a song he must prepare his instrument. He must clear his throat, tune his guitar, or wet his reed. When all is prepared and ready to go, at what point does the song begin?

To write even these lines, though they may hardly be considered art, a concept had to be considered. A mysterious collection of impulses or simply a thought plucked from the constant babble and confusion within my mind reaches to the surface; demanding consideration.

When does the artist's work exist?

A romantic might say that the moment of inspiration, the very nanosecond of insight is the moment of conception. A more pragmatic person might say that the art exists once the brush hits the canvas or the first notes reach our ears. A more extreme, perhaps critical person may even say that the work does not exist as art until the last word is written or the final note becomes inaudible.

What do you consider to be the truth? When does the art begin? At what point do you recognize it for what it is? Where, throughout the process, do we begin to find its meaning?

Now imagine the greatest art on earth. I do not mean the Mona Lisa, a great concerto or the words of Shakespeare. I'm not talking about the pyramids or the leaning tower of Pisa. I'm talking about the art of humanity, of our very existence. At what point in our lives do we exist?

In parallel, some cultures believe that a person begins at the moment the mother first forms the egg or the father produces the sperm that will succeed in fertilizing the egg. Some believe the moment to be when the sperm and the egg meet and cell division occurs (the formation of the zygote). Still, others believe that a person does not come to be until the moment they leave their mother's womb.

What about invitro fertilization?

Invitro fertilization usually involves collecting eggs from the mother or egg donor, collecting sperm from the father or sperm donor and fertilization many of the eggs in a petri dish. A laboratory technician watches the newly formed zygotes and selects the a number of the "best" ones to transfer into the woman's womb. The remaining zygotes are destroyed or frozen for use in future pregnancies.

Inside the womb, any number of these embryos can implant and become an established pregnancy. After a couple of weeks, the womb is checked an in the cases where multiple pregnancies are detected, some may be terminated to match the number the mother desires to carry and some may be terminated to help ensure a healthy pregnancy.

If you or I discovered we were what is known as a "test tube baby", how would this affect us?

Would we wonder why we were allowed to develop into people while our developing and possibly viable brothers and sisters were destroyed around us?

What would it feel like knowing that someone decided our fate long before we had our first conscious thought? Would it be worse knowing that our very own parents may have taken part in selecting us our chance to live and the others to not live?

How would we feel knowing that other potential brothers and sisters might still be alive, frozen in stasis, waiting for the chance that our mother might want another pregnancy?

How thankful I am not to have to face these questions. It's hard enough to wonder, if at some time in my life, my own mother may have aborted some brother or sister I never knew existed and never got the chance to know. Do we really have the right to create these emotional and spiritual questions in the cold confines of a laboratory? How far can we separate ourselves from our nature to facilitate our own selfish hopes and dreams?

What happens to the art of humanity?

Mickael Maddison

I just read an article on the federal initiative to make it easier for our First Nations to secure a mortgage for homes on their Indian band reserve land. According to the article, banks rarely mortgage homes on reserves as legally they have no recourse for compensation should the home owner default on their payments. The land is community owned and laws prevent non-natives from seizing and selling native land.

The unfortunate result of this issue is that it's difficult for the First Nations that wish to become home owners to afford to purchase or build their homes. I believe everyone deserves and has a right to the opportunity of being a home owner=; yet I find it rather confusing and even conflicting that the government must come forth and provide an "insurance fund" to encourage banks to take on these unusual mortgages.

The first thing that seems out of place is the entire notion that you can get a mortgage on a permanent building where the land is not owned by the home owner. It seems illogical that anyone would want to invest in such a situation, unless of course there are some securities in place for the mortgage provider.

Second, if the reserve is intended to be a self-governed community for First Nations people where the land is owned by the band, would it not make sense that band government would need to address this issue themselves? I don't know the finer details of all this, I'm no lawyer or politician, but it seems that if mortgages are desired , then the band should take steps to make a mortgage attractive to mortgage providers? Sun Rivers seems to indicate that there is a way to achieve this result by way of long-term land leasing.

My third entry here is more of a question than a point. What exactly is the difference between being a member of a self-governed people within Canada and a "regular" Canadian citizen?

If it were a country-to-country comparison, let's pretend Australia doesn't have a certain "big box store" due to some laws that prevent this store from being able to insure their stores in Australia. Citizens of Australia really want the big box store but don't want to change their insurance laws, so hey appeal to the government where the head of the big box store is located and ask the foreign government to provide the insurance for them. Well... it doesn't make a lot of sense for the foreign government to provide insurance for a corporation to risk expanding into the Australian market. Sure they may tax the profits, but is it worth the risk? What does make sense to me is that if Australia wants the big box store, then they take the steps necessary to make it happen.

That may not be the most clear or concise analogy I've used, but as I said, I don't know much about the deeper situation. It is clear that we need to work in cooperation with our First Nations in finding ways to assist each other to have lives that are rich and healthy with equal opportunities and responsibilities -- even if they should be lived out differently.

There are a lot of things that we can contribute to one another, but there really needs to be a symbiosis and an understanding that to live life differently than your neighbor does mean you'll have different roles, challenges and responsibilities than they do. If they have something in their lives that we want, it's not up to them to find a way for us to get it...

Mickael Maddison

Today I find myself breaking from my normal daily routine of sitting in front of this screen doing an assortment of computer related tasks. If I were in a better mood I wouldn't describe them as mundane, but today mundane seems apt. Today I head out into the scary world to meet with clients, council with council, and generally create a few tons of CO2. If things go well, perhaps I'll sell off a bundle tickets to my next show at On The Rocks Pub. It's all good.

The point to my rambling is that I think we're all insane. According to some recent study, 1/4 British Columbians have an anxiety disorder. Looks like I've been stick-pinned and labeled yet again but at least this time I have a lot of company. Insanity can be defined as "relatively permanent disorder of the mind"; if that's not vague enough, try this one "A degree of mental illness that negates criminal culpability." Well I have no intentions of doing anything criminal, save perhaps a few kilometres above or below the posted speed limit. What I find insane, however, is that as I look around at all the people I know, doesn't that first description apply to pretty much all of us?

We've all got something that makes ourselves and others nutty, and in the end aren't that all tied into our minds? We eat too much because we seek comfort. We drink too much because we think our pain might go away. We rock out with loud music to avoid hearing our own thoughts. We watch television in hopes that we'll get sucked into someone else's reality and leave our pathetic existence behind. Yes, I realize I'm exaggerating a little here, but it's not far from the truth.

As I prepare to head out, I am wondering, who's NOT insane? Which of the faces we encounter throughout our day has their shirt on straight? Are we all just a bunch of nutty astronauts that all seem normal primarily out of circumstance? Or is sanity just a state of oblivion to our own insanity?

Mickael Maddison

It's all over the news. Canada has it's first private emergency health care center right here in British Columbia. If you happen to be in the Vancouver area and need non-critical emergency health care, all you need to do is open that fat wallet and dish out a couple $100 bills and you'll see a doctor tout de suite.

So long as your wallet is fat, there's no need to wait the long hours in the publicly funded hospital ER waiting area. People with lots of money are, after all, far superior and far more valuable to society than those with little. We all know that if it wasn't for the wealthy, us middle and lower class folks would simply fall to ruin?

I can't help but detest the idea of a private emergency room, yet in total honesty, if I were in need of emergency services and the public ER lines were long, I would do what I could and dig deep to get help quickly. In fact, I think we all would. It's not about the moral stand of health care for all... it's about getting help when it's needed. If you've ever waited 5 hours in emergency yourself, I think you would agree.

I also have to wonder if this is a well intentioned ploy to rile up the people of Canada and to force the government to take action. The principals of the Private ER center claim to have had enough legal counsel to be confident in their legal position. If the BC Government should attempt to shut them down, the effort would likely result in a test of the Canada Health Act. Depending on how the case is handled, this might end up serving the best interests of Canadians. Or, on the other hand, it could result in the rampant privatization of medical services.

Either way, this is a good time to pay careful attention to the news. This issue is considered critical to Canadians based on many surveys. As a country, we believe in the concept of equal health care for all and it is my belief that with better management and support from everyone involved it is possible.

Mickael Maddison

I have to wonder, what would any honest person be doing in downtown Kamloops that they wouldn't want a professional monitoring station to see? What are they trying to hide? I don't really like the idea of someone watching me as I walk around downtown, but really, if it's going to help reduce crime and allow criminals to be prosecuted, then why not?

Sure, a system like this could be abused, but chances are it'll be used as expected. It will be used to help clean up the streets and keep our downtown core safe. If you're one of those opposed to having a safer downtown, or putting criminals behind bars, I suppose you might want to clean up your act eh?

Mickael Maddison

Today I feel little joy. The last couple weeks have torn me. I can't think of a time in my life that has been this hard to bear. As I look back over that day that will be forever burnt into my heart, I still find it hard to believe that as I was out having a pleasant evening when my Dad fell asleep at the wheel of his SUV which went off the road, and in a horrible moment of twisting metal, flying debris and shattering glass, died.

I didn't know anything had happened until the next morning when I received a call from my step-mother. She informed me that my Dad had called her at 5:30pm to let her know he'd be home around 6 but never arrived. They hadn't found him yet so we still held onto that small thread of hope, yet inside our hearts we already knew the truth. It was only a couple hours from that call that my worst fear was confirmed and I had the terrible task of passing the news onto my siblings. What a horrible thing to have to share, yet strangely it is a task I'm glad was my own and not some strangers.

Even now, I find it difficult to believe I'll never hear his voice again. No more long talks about our businesses. No more fatherly advice about raising my kids. No more deep discussions about politics and religion. His voice little more than a memory.

To never see his smiling face; one of his best attributes. My Dad almost always had a warm smile or a friendly smirk on his face, as if he was thinking of something he could do to help you out or some silly joke he could pull on you. Pictures are a wonderful invention, but for all that a photo contains, they cannot capture our spirit. As condolences pour in, I've had so many comments on how much people enjoyed that smile.

To know my children have lost their grandfather. At such a young age he will only exist in a few special memories within our oldest child. The others are too young to have formed any long-term memories - such a loss! I think this is the realization that hits me the hardest, for the memories I have both good and bad at least I have so many and can say I knew the man. For these tender children, they will have to find him through the stories that we tell them, stories that will be difficult to share without shedding tears.

I am glad that I was able to visit the site of the accident. To see all the broken trees, scraped rocks and displaced earth. Somehow standing at the place where his last moment in this world was spent and seeing how violently he was taken provided some kind of comfort, even some peace. I will never forget the images of digging through the leaves finding coins, jolly ranchers, alka-seltzer and dozens of other small things that were left by the cleanup crew. I will never forget how I threw a rock 20 feet up into a tree to knock down the rearview mirror that somehow ended up there. We visited the site many times over those few days and somehow each time we found a little more to remind us.

Seeing him at the viewing all laid out in the soft beauty of the casket, with the soft music and the quiet sobbing of his family around was beyond description. The feelings of loss could not be contained, and yet somehow the time we spent there brought so much peace and even warmth that I couldn't help but believe there is more to life than we see here. We could feel that his body was empty, but that his spirit was surrounding us with comfort. Sure, we cried, but I think most of us left that room after seeing him for the last time in our lives feeling his love go with us.

I never knew, until we arrived for the funeral service, that the Catholic Cathedral in Nelson was so splendid. The building was a wonderful place to pay our final respects and pray for the safe delivery of Dad's soul. The service was very moving and I found my voice and comfort in song. Once the service ended and it was time to load him back into the Funeral car the finality of it all hit home.

Through all the events of that short week there were so many blessings I can hardly describe it without becoming even more convinced that there is something more to life than the cold answers of science. How many times did I feel that events were being carefully handled to steer us towards thoughts of our love rather than our pain of loss? Events seemed to unfold in a way that protected us from seeing more than we were prepared to handle, and yet answers came as soon as we were ready to cope with the truth. The loss was not lessened but we knew our loss was shared and was not without some purpose.

I can say with great pride that my father and I have not always seen eye-to-eye. I have some wonderful memories of us doing those father-son things that we were supposed to do, and I have some less wonderful memories of things that got messed up along the way. The most important thing that I remember about him is that, as a single parent, he was always there for me when I needed him. He taught me what it is to be responsible, what it is to be strong for my children, and that it's ok to make mistakes and learn from them. He was the one thing that was consistent while my life was always changing.

I will miss all that, and always wonder how things would be different now if he were still here. It hurts to think that I have to be a man, a husband, and a father now without the great resource he provided me. Yet somehow I know that, as he left this life, he knew that I was ready for this burden. I will miss every moment that we spent together. I will miss all the great conversations we had and all the special meals he made. I will miss him but I will continue on strong as he would expect me to. Someday, hopefully far in the future, it will be my turn to make the journey. Others will be left behind to mourn my passing and to reflect on the role I have played in their lives.

Here's to my Dad. May he rest in peace knowing that he is loved and missed by many and that we will do our best to keep his memory alive in our hearts and our lives.

Mickael Maddison

Was it 2 or was it 3 years ago when we all heard that french fries contained a chemical that causes cancer? I don't recall the date, but I do remember being in the drive through at a Wendy's when I heard the news. I was listening to the news broadcast that explained that the process of deep-frying caused particularly high concentrations of acrylamide to form on starchy foods like potatoes.

Well what else is new? We all know that eating food is as good as signing our death certificates. We are not supposed to eat trans-fats. We should avoid fast foods, fatty foods, starchy foods, sugary foods, acidic foods, foods containing fish or meat, fruits or vegetables that are not organically grown, foods that others have touched, foods that are not properly prepared, foods that aren't ripe or are too ripe, foods that have been stored for long times, foods that have been transported long distances, foods that are in plastic containers, foods that are prepared on non-stick surfaces, foods cooked on aluminum surfaces.... really I've just begun this list. I am only stopping at this point as I'm getting older every word I type.

What foods can we eat? What medications can we take? What air can we breath? What roads can we drive? Is there anything we actually can do?

The acrylamide problem came to light today at lunch. Not knowing what to cook, I decided to throw together a restaurant style lunch of fresh cut fries, scrambled eggs, toast and mandarine oranges. I keep a jar of olive oil handy for deep frying, since I've heard so many bad things about all the hydrogenated oils being nasty. Oh, and because my eye doctor said that taking flax-seed oil and eating olive oil would help reduce my eyestrain (so far it seems he was right). Anyway, talking with my wife as we ate, we started to wonder if this acrylamide problem was resolved or reduced by using olive oil to make the fries rather than using vegetable oil. I was shocked at the results.

Using olive oil may have actually increased our exposure to acrylamide by 50%

Now that hurts. Here I am thinking that I'm helping the family health by using doctor-recommended olive oil (though admittedly we never talked about making french fries), I've potentially made things worse. Ok now I know that so maybe fries have to go completely. What I also learned, is that our favorite cereals contain acrylamide. Bread, and even worse, toast contains acrylamide. In fact, on the list of things that we Canadians eat on a daily basis, a large portion of them contain acrylamide.

Oh, by the way, acrylamide has been proven to cause cancer in animals... no one has confirmed this for humans yet though.

So what the heck can I do? I can't spend my days researching every bite of food I eat - someone has to earn a paycheck right? I just want to know what I should be eating. Fact is, there's no other animal on earth that eats the way humans do. We're the only ones that eat such a diverse variety of foods prepared in many different ways. We do need to eat every day, and according to the kid's show we just watched on TV, cereals and toast are a good part of a nutritious breakfast. Does anyone out there have a list of foods that won't kill us? Will our food choices really have any significant effect on our long-term health? Maybe we need to launch a class-action lawsuit at our governments for failing to create the magic elixir of a perfect life?

Until next meal...

Mickael Maddison